


The Place For Me

by whatstheproblembaby



Category: Glee
Genre: Fluff, M/M, meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2015-10-02
Packaged: 2018-04-24 09:05:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4913461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whatstheproblembaby/pseuds/whatstheproblembaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off this AU idea: you were sat in my reserved train seat and refused to move so i sat on your lap and now we’re both too annoyed and awkwardly turned on to move</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Place For Me

Kurt never thought he would be in love with a transportation system, but that was before he was introduced to the University Shuttle System in New York. A few of the colleges around the city had pulled together the funds to create a mass transit system that picked up students near their residences and shuttled them to whichever campus they needed to get to, saving them time and earning the schools more money. Kurt had purchased his season ticket the day he heard about the program.

Of course, since it was the program’s first year of existence, there were a few bugs to work out.

“Hi, I’m sorry, you’re in my seat,” Kurt said to the cute guy currently occupying his spot - seat 608.

“No, I’m not,” the man said, flashing a charming (if slightly patronizing) smile up at Kurt that made him have to consciously stiffen his knees. “I checked the number, I’m in the right spot.”

“That’s impossible,” Kurt said, a little less politely than before. “I just bought this spot a couple of days ago.”

“So did I,” the man said. “What day did you buy it?”

“Oh, like I’d tell you,” Kurt scoffed. “You’ll just say the day before that and claim you got it first.”

“I wasn’t actually planning on that, but thanks for the idea,” the man said, shooting a far tighter smile at Kurt.

“Sir, you need to take a seat,” the bus driver called back to Kurt, making him turn to face her.

“But he’s-”

“You need. To take. A seat!” the bus driver repeated, turning back to the windshield.

“I need to take a seat? Fine,” Kurt said, swiveling back toward the man in his seat. “I will.”

“What are you - oh my God!”

Kurt plopped down into Rude Yet Handsome Guy’s lap, crossing his legs demurely before staring out the window like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“You’re in my seat,” Kurt said breezily. “What other choice do I have?”

“I can think of a few,” Rude Yet Handsome Guy muttered, but he made no move to force Kurt off of him.

Kurt reached into his bag and pulled out his new edition of _Vogue_ , figuring his seatmate may not want to converse. As he was reading an editorial, though, a tanned hand reached out and kept him from turning the page.

“Wait, I’m not quite done yet,” RYHG said - so sue Kurt for making an initialism, his mental moniker was a little lengthy - much more gently than ever before.

“You’re reading over my shoulder?” Kurt asked, more amazed than pissed off.

“I can’t really get to my tablet with you in my lap, and I’ve been meaning to purchase this issue anyways,” RYHG explained. “I figured I may as well.”

“At least your taste in reading material is good,” Kurt teased, starting to warm up to this guy. “But I’ll really be okay with potentially ceding this seat to you if you tell me what you’re thinking about this treatise on bringing back the nineties.”

“Not my favorite silhouette,” RYHG said instantly. “Also, I feel weird knowing that the decade in which I was born is somehow vintage enough to be trendy.”

“Oh my _God_ , right?!” Kurt said, turning so he was sitting sideways on the man’s lap rather than forward. “We are nowhere near old enough for that to be a thing. I much prefer midcentury styles.”

“Me too, obviously,” RYHG said, nodding down toward his color-coordinated cardigan and bow tie. “Much more flattering.”

 _You can say that again,_ Kurt thought, clenching his jaw briefly to keep that thought from escaping. Instead, he said, “Hey, what’s your name, by the way?”

“Oh, I’m Blaine.”

“Kurt,” Kurt said, reaching out to shake Blaine’s left hand awkwardly in his own - their angle was kind of weird. Before he could say more, the bus lurched to a halt unexpectedly as sirens filled the air, throwing Kurt off-balance and almost off of Blaine’s lap. But only almost, because Blaine’s right arm wrapped around his waist the second he started sliding and kept him from faceplanting on the dirty bus floor.

“What the hell?” Kurt said, discombobulated.

“I think there’s been an accident,” Blaine said, looking out the window. “We may be stuck here for a while.”

“Good thing we still have plenty of articles to discuss, right?” Kurt asked. “Oh, and, uh...thanks for not letting me crash.”

“I mean, a couple minutes ago, I might have,” Blaine teased, eyes sparkling playfully. “But I’m dying to know your opinion on the salute to mauve I heard about, so I couldn’t let you take a nosedive onto the infection breeding ground that is the floor of this bus.”

“Oh, don’t even get me started,” Kurt said, unable to keep from smiling at Blaine. “I mean, I love a good purple tone, but mauve? Really? Lavender is so much nicer.”

“I was thinking more deep violet myself.”

“That’s so uninspired, though,” Kurt replied. “Lavender fits the fall color scheme, but isn’t quite so _dark_.”

“Classics are classic for a reason,” Blaine said, getting that challenging tone back in his voice. “If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, you know?”

“Who says it’s not broken?” Kurt asked, arching an eyebrow.

“Clearly we need to discuss this further,” Blaine said as the bus began to move again, the accident apparently not as bad as they feared. “But I’m almost at my stop. Would you maybe want to continue this over dinner some time?”

“I would love to,” Kurt said. “Trade numbers?”

Blaine nodded, and they managed to exchange phones without upsetting anything, a somewhat miraculous feat. By the time they finished, the bus was pulling up by NYU, and Kurt had to move so Blaine could get off.

“I’ll keep our seat warm for you,” Kurt said, winking.

“Actually?” Blaine said, looking shifty. “I realized midway through the ride that I _was_ in the wrong seat. I was just too stubborn to say so at first, and then I was enjoying our conversation too much.”

“I suppose I can let it slide this time,” Kurt said. “Talk to me after our date, though.”

Blaine shot him a pleased smile before dashing off the bus as the doors were closing, making Kurt’s heart thump erratically for a moment. He didn’t manage to collect himself again until the bus reached NYADA.

(The date went so well that Kurt encouraged Blaine to forget he’d ever remembered his real seat number, an idea they could both agree with. The debate between using violets or lavender blossoms as one of the flowers at their wedding got a little more heated, though.)


End file.
